The road stretched ahead, a ribbon winding towards the city of Greyhawk. Within their colorful caravan, the members of 'Good Question' discussed their past and future.
Sprocket: Are we leaning into this theater troop thing, or is that just sort of like a peripheral story?
Backdrop: Yeah. It started as a group of adventurers who did quests to fund their performances. Our first big show was in Greyhawk.
Years later, they had the opportunity to purchase an old rundown theater in the city – the Nectar – to make it their permanent home.
CJ: So, we're performing to get the down payment?
Backdrop: Precisely. Reputation and cash to fix up the place.
Their performances were good, mostly making ends meet, but perhaps they were coming off a hard winter.
Backdrop: Ah, the place where it all began. We are home.
Arriving in Greyhawk, the troop sought out the Lantern Tavern, a cozy pub.
CJ: Well, she said we got to wait at the tavern. So, oh, no, I guess we got to go to the tavern. And that's awful.
Behind the bar stood a dwarven bartender, surprisingly tall. As CJ questioned his height, the bartender revealed a secret.
CJ: Are you standing on top of a bench to seem taller?
He came around the corner, standing on top of another dwarf! They both flipped behind the counter, and suddenly, bottles appeared as if he had four arms, pouring drinks with impossible speed.
Backdrop: I have to say, I appreciate your efficiency of work. Four arms makes work faster.
The bartender recognized CJ's fiddle.
Dwarven Bartender: All right, you can get back down to even if you put up a song for us.
CJ pulled out his fiddle and played a tune, earning the first round of drinks for the group.
CJ: Don't forget to tip your bartenders!
The four-armed bartender gave a thumbs up from behind the bar. The troop fell into their familiar rhythm.
Narrator: A young female half-elf with fair skin and windswept blonde hair, wearing a brown hooded garment, danced and weaved between tables, a constant state of positivity and motion, helping clear empty cups. A short, young goblin with green skin and spiky blonde hair under a blue beanie walked around, testing and fixing shaky stools and tables, building quiet reputation.
Backdrop: Is this a common tactic? One of us plays, Lena dances and helps, Sprocket fixes things... just to get some free drinks, get some rep?
Lena: I feel like that feels like a good thing! I imagine she would just like, take the bartender and start dancing with him. She's innocent, so she's not aware using this as a marketing strategy.
CJ: This is just pure life at the party.
Ravena: If your hair is over your ears, you're getting a beer.
A young elf who appears to be around 16 years old, with fair skin, pink, curly, windswept hair, wearing a brown faux-leather jacket and patterned skirt, caught on to CJ trying to water down her drink and attempted to swap them back.
Suddenly, the tavern door burst open. Barging through was a wizard in heart-patterned boxer shorts and a pointy hat, conjuring magic erratically.
CJ: Didn't mean that strong...
Behind him, an Elven woman wearing a flowing purple robe, with a poised but tired expression, quickly followed, catching the stray magic. It was Serenity, Ravena's distant cousin.
Backdrop: Counterspell!
A lean warforged constructed from bronze and dark metals, with yellow glowing eyes, threw out a counterspell, intercepting one of Meryl's chaotic bolts. Serenity briefly met the warforged's eyes, then made her way towards the troop's table.
Serenity reached the table, a mix of relief and exhaustion on her face.
Serenity: Everybody, my apologies. My father, Meryl, has misplaced his trousers again.
Laughter spread through the tavern. Meryl, meanwhile, had found a young female half-elf with fair skin and windswept blonde hair, wearing a brown hooded garment, and was doing a weird chicken dance with her.
Lena: Oh my God, what an entrance! I love your shorts!
Serenity greeted a few people, then turned to the table, her eyes lighting up as she saw her cousin.
Serenity: Ah, cousin, it is good to see you again.
Ravena: Hey Serenity. How's it?
Serenity: Things are a little crazy right now. You don't say. Yeah, yeah, but I'm so happy to see you. It's been a decade. I'm a little frazzled.
CJ: Did we just complete our quest? Do we get 300 gold coins down? We won, right?
Serenity: Oh, you're... you're the others, the troop. Just as lovely as I expected. Of course. Look, I basically need a babysitter for a night. He won't kill you on accident, but he might others. You just gonna play in the show and he's gonna go to bed.
Serenity produced a contract, conjured with a flash of magic.
Serenity: Yes, yes of course. It says 300 gold or an equal claim of the Nectar as owner. If you survive, written at the bottom.
Sprocket: Okay. Sprocket signs it.
CJ: Wait, hold on one second. That's like, 1500 gold! We might be able to buy the place! We'll take the job!
Backdrop: We will take, we will take the job.
Serenity: Just so, you know, if you take anything out of that house, you will die a miserable death. I am warning you not to prevent you from stealing it but to guard your internal soul.
CJ: Lady. We're a traveling troop of musicians, not thieves.
Ravena: Do you see this group? You're insane.
Backdrop: We are changing nectar from a strip club to a theater. We are very clean, internal souls.
Serenity: Listen. Okay, He won't wear pants. Okay. I thought it would be a nice place where no one will wear pants. I am a competent business woman. And hey, if you do this, well, then maybe you'll walk out with a free piece of s*** house that you can renovate.
Backdrop: We'll take the job.
With the job accepted, the troop headed towards the mansion on the hill. Traveling troops weren't unique in Greyhawk, but their mission was.
A young female half-elf with fair skin and bright green eyes, her flowing, wavy blonde hair windswept, wearing a simple brown hooded garment, bounced through the streets, stopping at everything that caught her interest, saying hi to every single person.
Lena: Hi, I'm Lena! And I'm just the theater troupe and we're babysitting a wizard!
She told everyone about the troop and their babysitting gig for Meryl, gathering local gossip about the eccentric wizard.
Lena: I do love those heart shorts he wears!
Lena: No, no, we're not allowed to steal, but thank you for your service!
Meanwhile, a young elf who appears to be around 16 years old, with fair skin, pink, curly hair, wearing a brown faux-leather jacket and patterned skirt, was feeling the effects of the tavern drinks, leaning on an adult dwarf with a reddish-orange mohawk and braided beard, wearing a black leather vest, who was trying to help.
CJ: You need some water? Would you like some help?
CJ played the role of steed, feeding her snacks, while she mostly ignored the water.
The troop arrived at Mordecai Mansion, a grand structure on the hill. Serenity was waiting.
Serenity: Welcome. Yes, thank you. Coming so quickly. I apologize for the unconventional tavern introduction.
She led them inside. They entered a huge space with vaulted ceilings, sparkling with magical energy. It felt both grand and strangely cozy. They passed a closed door.
Serenity: Meryl's workshop, best to avoid it.
Serenity rounded a corner, leading them into a massive library. Meryl was bouncing around, grabbing a book, still in his heart shorts.
Meryl: Welcome to our humble abode! Here's the quick update: he's not bipolar, he's like try-quad. Just distract him with a riddle. Get them settled in his chambers tonight. Any last questions?
Sprocket: Are we getting paid for this job? And what's that gonna look like? And when exactly are you gonna be back again?
Serenity confirmed the payment or Nectar ownership, showing the contract again. A short, young goblin with green skin and spiky blonde hair under a blue beanie, wearing blue overalls, signed it after a moment of thought.
Ravena: Is that it? [Signs]
Serenity: Also, he definitely recognized you a little. There is definitely a family resemblance. If you need anything, on the mantlepiece over there, there is an emergency amulet.
Meryl came running in, agitated.
Meryl: Sixty-three! It's vital! We gotta go together!
Serenity: Dad, please. We've tabled this. What hasn't an eye but cannot see?
Meryl's agitation calmed. Serenity grabbed her satchel and ran out the door. Meryl muttered about the riddle.
Meryl: A needle... Yes, memories. Yeah, I'm hungry. Hahaha.
The troop was abandoned, their task to entertain the wizard until he slept.
While Meryl was distracted by food, the troop huddled to devise a plan.
CJ: So, what's our game plan here?
Sprocket: We gotta wear this guy out one way or another. Lena, what do you think?
Lena: I mean he really likes dancing. Maybe some workshop movements? Or I could do some Tai Chi with him.
CJ: I think that's a great idea. I can play some soothing fiddle music.
Backdrop: We will have to be the stars of this show.
Meryl overheard the word 'show'.
Meryl: Show? Show me show! Ready? Ready! Oh, so ready! I'll be star!
With a flash of intense light and heat, Meryl transformed into a burning supernova!
CJ: Oh God! Turn it off! Turn it off!
Meryl: That was a star!
As Meryl returned to his normal form, a young female half-elf with fair skin and bright green eyes, her flowing, wavy blonde hair windswept, wearing a simple brown hooded garment, approached him, eyes wide with wonder.
Lena: Can you show me how to do that? Because I can do this. Maybe we could create something for the show? Teach me how to magic?
She held out her hand, conjuring a small, sputtering flame.
Meryl: You are... Interesting. I can teach so good.
Meryl shuffled towards the library shelves.
Meryl: Would you like to be whale star, fireball, Crimson Thunder, tornado tyrant?
Lena: Fireball.
Meryl: Fireball! Best way to learn is by being!
He thrust a glowing scroll charged with fire magic into her hands.
While the others planned, a young elf who appears to be around 16 years old, with fair skin, pink, curly, windswept hair, wearing a brown faux-leather jacket and patterned skirt, slipped away to the kitchen for snacks.
Meryl came running in, finding her.
Meryl: Oh, you are here! I didn't look. My pants!
He ran out, came back with tattered pants, and sat down. Ravena attempted to mend them.
Ravena: Hi, Uncle Meryl.
Meryl: Oh, right pants. No, I want to wait until after show. Show first, pants second. Ready.
A lean warforged constructed from bronze and dark metals, with yellow glowing eyes, holding a clipboard, stepped forward to perform.
Backdrop: I am simply the backdrop, haha! I find myself pretty shocking!
The warforged cast Shocking Grasp, sparks flying from its hand.
Backdrop: I wanted to make sure that I didn't get fired! Well, I believe that's my time.
It shot a small Firebolt. Meryl laughed.
Meryl: Hahaha! Oh, Is it? It's your pants time? Now, I have to put them on tonight.
CJ: The show's over. It's time for bed, right?
Meryl: Ah, so.
Meryl's eyes went wide with panic. He phased into his tattered pants, muttering insane words. Arcane energy erupted around him, forming a swirling, unstable portal.
Meryl: Oh, my stars and stones! You're not Serenity!
Panic flared in his eyes, then subsided into resignation. He made a swift gesture, sending a beam of light south. The troop was lifted, pulled towards the chaotic portal.
They tumbled through the swirling vortex, landing abruptly in a sun-dappled forest.
Standing before them was a holographic image: the same Meryl, but younger, in an elven form. Behind him stood a towering Owlbear, perched above a druid.
The hologram paused, then the younger Meryl smiled.
Meryl (Hologram): Welcome to a cherished memory. This is where I met her. Now you get to experience it firsthand. You must tame the Owlbear. Trial of the Master Magician...
A scroll appeared, detailing the task.
Meryl (Hologram): Try not to die. Now um, go kick your mom's ass so you can save her, I suppose. Do better than I did. Good luck.
The hologram faded, leaving the troop alone with the imposing Owlbear and the druid in the memory.